At World's End
by blackpearllover
Summary: Will, Elizabeth, and the crew reluctantly follow Barbossa to the world's end to rescue Jack. Meanwhile, Jack has discovered that purgatory isn't quite what it's made out to be...
1. Tia Dalma

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Chapter One: Tia Dalma

"So tell me, what's become of my ship?"

Tia Dalma's shack was, most fittingly, silent as the grave, as Captain Hector Barbossa – a man they'd seen die with _their own eyes_, no less – slurped at the juices flowing from the shiny green apple clenched in his gnarled fingers. A giant plumed hat perched crookedly from his very much alive head, and the smirk playing across his scarred lips did not serve to ease the room's tension in the slightest.

Will was, predictably, the first to make a move. Also predictably, his move was in the form of drawing his sword and leaping towards the pirate who had not only stolen the love of his life and nearly killed her, but also forced him to turn to piracy, almost killed _him_, as well as confined his father to the depths of the ocean, where he'd been left with no choice but to enslave his immortal soul into the service of Davy Jones.

The occupants of the room gave a collective gasp as the tip of Will's glistening cutlass whistled through the air towards Barbossa's exposed throat. Only Tia Dalma and Barbossa himself seemed unafraid, and their reactions were justified when Will's blade stopped an inch from the pirate's ruddy flesh.

"I'm surprised at you, Mister Turner," Barbossa said, eyeing the blade inches from his throat disdainfully.

"Why?" Will sneered, all his hatred for the man pouring forth in that single syllable. "You thought I'd kill you?"

"No," the pirate smirked, taking a cool step back up the stairs and away from the sharp steel. "I'm surprised you let me live. Clearly you're a smarter lad than I gave you credit for on our last adventure."

Will scowled deeply at the insult. "You've always been a poor judge of character, _Captain _Barbossa. For some reason, Tia Dalma thinks you can help us save Jack, and I'm not fool enough to dispatch of you before I find out if you'll actually be of use to us."

The malicious smile on Barbossa's face widened. "So harsh, so practical, Mister Turner! What happened to that innocent little blacksmith we all knew and loved?"

"He grew up," Will snapped. "And watched a lot of people that he cared for get hurt." His brown eyes flickered momentarily towards Elizabeth, who was clutching the drink Tia Dalma had given her with white fingers, her whole being fairly simmering with disgust for the formerly-undead Captain. The betrothed couple's gazes locked for an instant, and Will abruptly turned away, missing the look of shame and misery in his fiancée's eyes.

Barbossa laughed cruelly. "Trouble in paradise, lad?" When Will growled and made to slash at him, the pirate held up his hands apologetically and backed up another step. "Calm down, boy, I was only having a bit of fun."

Mr. Gibbs stepped forward. "Leave Will alone, Barbossa. Why don't you start tellin' us how you came to be here, before our young friend loses his patience and does something I'm sure none o' us will regret?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Gibbs," Barbossa snorted, clearly not intimidated in the least. "But as much as I'd like to delight you all with a tale of my daring escape from Hell, I'm afraid the honour falls to dear Tia."

Tia Dalma leaned back against the rickety table, a mysterious smile blossoming on her dark face. "You be too kind, Captain. His return was not of me doing, but de will of de demons of de land he was sent ta after me Jack sent a bullet tru his heart."

"Hell," Elizabeth said softly, a horrified look twisting her features. "That's not where Jack was sent, is it?"

The smile on Tia Dalma's face was clearly intended to be comforting, even though it failed to sooth a single person in the room. "Me darlin' Jack was not sent ta any place such as Hell, I assure ya. And he is not truly dead either. He's stuck halfway between our world and beyond, unable ta move on because of his debt ta Davy Jones."

"We must save him!" Elizabeth cried. "If he's actually in… in limbo or something-"

"In the circles of higher learning which I am known to frequent on occasion," Ragetti interjected, "we call it purgatory."

"That's right," Pintel agreed instantly. "There's all sorts of stories 'bout it in that bible thing Ragetti's always prattlin' on about. It's said to be a terrible place, all fire and ashes."

"Dat would be Hell you are tinkin' of, child," Tia Dalma laughed. "Purgatory is notting like Hell."

Elizabeth's hand slammed down on the table. "I don't give a damn what it's like!" she snapped. "All I care about is that Jack is there right now, and we aren't doing a thing to help him!"

Tia Dalma inclined her long, dreadlock-covered head in apology. "You be right, o' course. I'll cut ta da chase, den. Barbossa, wid ma 'elp, made a deal wit de devil – de devil doesn't like Davy Jones prolongin' people's lives de way 'e does. If Barbossa can stop Davy Jones's dominion over da seas, he'll be awarded wit a second chance at life."

"And what about Jack?" Mr. Gibbs demanded.

Tia Dalma nodded again, smirking slightly. "Dat was my condition in da agreement. It was I who got Barbossa an audience wit de devil. In exchange, he's agreed ta 'elp save Jack."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as her memory suddenly flashed an image from their first encounter with the gypsy woman… a memory of a pair of boots and legs, the rest of the body hidden behind the wall. "But Barbossa has been alive again before Jack was even killed! How could you make a deal concerning Jack's salvation, when he was still alive?"

Barbossa's lips twitched in a mocking grin as Tia Dalma cackled. "Ya forget so quickly dat I can see da future at times, girl. I knew dat Jack would be needin' ma 'elp, so I made it so dat when de time came, I'd be ready."

Elizabeth frowned. "Just why are you so intent on saving Jack, anyway? What's in it for you?"

The voodoo priestess cackled again. "Ya could say I'm… fond of 'im. I'm sure ya can relate, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth immediately glanced at Will, who was studiously avoiding her gaze, much as he had been their entire journey following the kiss he'd witnessed on the _Black Pearl_. She huffed, affecting an air of nonchalance. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

As the pirate crew exchanged bemused looks and Will examined a speck of dirt on the floor intensely, Tia Dalma grinned and waggled a finger at Elizabeth. "Don't be tinkin' I don't know what 'appened, girl. Ya can't fool Tia Dalma."

"Yes, I'm beginning to understand," Elizabeth muttered.

Mr. Gibbs cleared his throat pointedly. When Tia Dalma glanced his way with her intense gaze, he gulped nervously and scratched at the kerchief tied round his neck. "I was just hopin' that maybe we could get back to savin' Jack."

Another eerie grin exposed the mystic's crooked yellow teeth as she bobbed her head in agreement. "O' course. Ta reach Jack, ya got ta sail off da edge of de map – for dat ya need a Captain wit no fear and nottin' ta lose."

Barbossa gave a mock bow, much in the manner of the late Jack Sparrow.

"Ma people will drop ya off at Tortuga, where ya can get ya'selves a ship," she continued. "Under da direction o' Captain Barbossa, he'll take ya to a man who can show ya da next step of da journey ta save Jack."

"And who might this man be?" Elizabeth demanded archly. "I thought you said Barbossa knows how to save Jack. We shouldn't need someone else's help."

"His name is Captain Sao Feng," Barbossa said slowly, tossing his apple core to his undead monkey and plucking another from one of the many pockets of his bulging coat. "Makes berth in Singapore."

The words _clearly you've never been to Singapore_ drifted through Elizabeth's mind, a memory from a time long past when she was able to sleep at night without fearing what mortal danger she would encounter when the sun rose.

"Captain Feng 'as a map on 'im, a map that'll lead you to purgatory, and Jack," Tia Dalma concluded. "It is a precious ting to 'im, and 'e won't part wit it easily. Dat is where da danger starts, and dat is why I ask ya now wedder ya truly want ta save Jack – would ya risk ya lives for 'im?"

"Absolutely," Elizabeth agreed instantly. _Like I didn't see that one coming_, Will thought bitterly.

A shaky chorus of "Ayes" sounded from the crew. That left only Will, whose eyes narrowed as he regarded Tia Dalma intently.

"For a man dat claims ta be Jack's friend," she said softly, "ya seem ta have a lot of anger towards da man."

"There is no love lost between Jack and I," Will snapped, of course glancing at Elizabeth, who of course looked away. "But if I'm to rescue my father from Davy Jones' clutches, I have no choice. The _Pearl _is the only ship that is fast enough to catch the _Dutchman_, and seeing as it's in purgatory, that's where I have to go."

As Gibbs did a marvelous job of looking bewildered and Elizabeth scowled at her fiancée, Tia Dalma pressed, "Is dat a yes, den?"

Will sighed. "Yes."

"Good," she smiled. "Den Captain Barbossa, ya have yer crew. I shall provide de boats ta Tortuga, and from der ya know da route. Good fortune be wit you, and try ta bring Jack back… in one piece, if ya can manage. He and I 'ave some… unfinished business." The way she salaciously ran her tongue over her lips was a clear indication of what that unfinished business would be.

A flare of jealousy sparked in Elizabeth's mind before she could quell it. _This is what got you into trouble in the first place! _she scolded herself as the pirates began filtering from the mystic's shack. _You're engaged, for heaven's sake! So stop thinking of Jack as if he's… _Her heart rallied in support for Jack. _You kissed him, didn't you? Doesn't that give you some claim over him? But, _the practical part of her countered, _you've already got a wonderful man. Why waste your life on a man who could be, for all we know, dead!_

Tia Dalma sidled over as Barbossa clapped a hand on Will's shoulder and prodded him out the door, leaving the two women alone in the ramshackle hut.

"Jack and I go way back," she said quietly. "We've done tings ya couldn't imagine, and tru it all I learned one important ting about Jack. He's a fighter, and when 'e wants some'ting, 'e takes it."

"Pirate," Elizabeth laughed softly.

"Indeed," Tia Dalma agreed fondly. "But 'e is also one o' da most sincere men I've ever met. Ya can be sure o' one ting – he never does some'ting unless he's got a reason."

"I kissed him," Elizabeth admitted. "And then I chained him to the _Pearl_, and let the kraken have him."

Tia Dalma smirked. "And ya're feelin' sorry for dat, girl? Jack's been around a long time – do ya really tink he'd let ya do sometin' like dat, wit'out knowin'?"

"You're saying he let me leave him for the kraken?" Elizabeth demanded in shock.

The voodoo priestess laughed. "Just between ya and me, Jack's no stranger ta chains." Elizabeth blushed. Tia Dalma cackled at her embarrassment. "I told ya we 'ad a history together, didn't I? Da point is, girl, ya coulda never chained 'im ta dat mast if 'e didn't want ya ta."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed in thought. "But why would he knowingly let me send him to his doom?"

Tia Dalma gave her a sly grin. "No one knows what's in dat man's 'ead. Maybe 'e was already plannin' ta face off wit da kraken ta give ya a fightin' chance. By playin' along, at least he got a kiss from ya before de end."

"Does…" Elizabeth trailed. "Do you know if he…"

"Actually cares for ya?" she finished. "I can only tell ya what I know, and dat is dis. Jack was willin' ta risk 'is life more den once ta save yours. Make o' dat what ya will."

_Could he actually love me? _Elizabeth wondered hopefully, then mentally smacked herself. _Will! Remember Will! Even if he's forgone all attempts at speaking civilly to me…_

Tia Dalma inclined her braided tresses in something akin to respect. "I don't envy ya da path ya're gonna be takin' dese next days. But I tink ya can 'andle it. And say Hi ta Jack when ya see 'im."

"You truly think we'll find him?" Elizabeth murmured.

The mystic smiled mysteriously. "Dat is for me ta know. Some advice, if ya'll hear it?"

"Go ahead."

"The Turner lad loves ya, dat much is clear, even if he's confused from what 'e witnessed on da _Pearl_. Don't write 'im off just yet. Sometimes bein' stuck on a ship wit a charmin' man, your fiancée across da sea, makes matters of da heart get complicated. Ya get what I'm sayin', Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I haven't a clue what you're getting at."

Tia Dalma laughed. "I only 'ope ya become clear soon on da matter, before ya break two hearts instead a just one."

"All aboard!" Barbossa growled as his motley crew shuffled down the rickety steps into the multiple river boats scattered around Tia Dalma's shack. "Although Jack Sparrow's in no immediate danger, there's no sense in keepin' him waitin'. Hop to it, ya scurvy dogs!"

Will clambered into a rowboat alongside Mr. Gibbs, and looked up to see Elizabeth, still gorgeous even when wearing ragged sailors' garb, stepping gracefully down the stairs. Without even thinking about it, he leaped to his feet and extended a hand, helping his fiancée into the boat, which caused a tentative smile to blossom on her face.

He immediately realized what he'd done, and withdrew his hand as if stung by some poisonous beast. "Will…" Elizabeth said pleadingly, but he turned away from her. _Don't think I've forgotten what you did, _he thought savagely to himself. _Even if Jack was about to sacrifice himself for us, that was no reason to snog him senseless! Especially not when you're engaged to another!_

Will had always been one for propriety, and he just couldn't wrap his head around Elizabeth's actions. It didn't help that every time she'd tried to explain, he'd ignored her and made some feeble excuse to leave the room.

Elizabeth sighed and sank into the back of the boat, as far from the scowling blacksmith as possible. _I'll tell him everything – the reason for the kiss, my feelings for him, for Jack – soon. But not until I've sorted things out first. _Satisfied with her decision, Elizabeth turned her attention to Mr. Gibbs, who was babbling loudly about some local legend or other. Shaking her head in amusement, she settled down to listen to what would no doubt be a humorous, adventure-packed tale, ten percent of which may even be true.

The small fleet of crafts pulled into Tortuga's docks in the dead of night, which didn't help much with maintaining some semblance of secrecy, as every light in every building was lit, and the shrieks of whores and bawdy laughter of drunken sailors pierced the night sky. "If you're going for discretion," Mr. Gibbs laughed quietly to Elizabeth, "in any town you dock during the night. In Tortuga, you dock during the day, because everyone is so hung-over there's no chance of someone seeing you."

"Apparently," Elizabeth agreed dryly, leaping agilely from the boat to the rough wooden dock that led to the heart of the pirate town. She turned to give a hand to Mr. Gibbs, only to find him halfway out. Will was already standing by Barbossa on land, speaking intensely to him and gesticulating wildly. It reminded Elizabeth rather forcefully of a certain pirate captain who was known to fling his arms out without reason, and she hurriedly shoved the memory to the back of her mind before she went all teary-eyed.

The crew, headed by Barbossa – who looked rather pleased at being in charge again – made their way to Tortuga's most popular hangout, the _Faithful Bride _tavern. Gesturing for his crew to seat themselves, Barbossa clapped his hands and proclaimed loudly: "Drinks all around!"

Silence blanketed the room as the drunken pirates and giggling whores regarded the resurrected pirate captain in wonder.

"Hector?" a whore squealed in delight, her crimson hair being twirled rapidly round her manicured nail. "I thought you was dead!"

Barbossa smiled charmingly – something Elizabeth had never believed he was capable of – and tossed the whore a wink. "My lovely Scarlet, did you really think that Captain Barbossa was gone for good?"

She beamed at him and practically flew to his side, draping her frilly arms around his wide shoulders. "Never." Barbossa laughed and fell back in his seat, dragging the laughing woman with him. Within an instant the whole tavern was pressing towards the formerly-undead man, all eager to learn what miracle had brought him back.

Elizabeth huffed in disgust and leaned towards Mr. Gibbs, the only one she seemed to talk to lately. Not that that was surprising – the only other person she'd consider having an intelligent conversation with was Will, and he… well… she wasn't going to worry about him right now. _Keep saying that_, she taunted herself. _It may even come true one day._

A short while later – actually, five hours, but with the amount of rum consumed, no one was lucid enough to care – Barbossa had won a fairly large ship called _Neptune's Wrath _from a down-on-his-luck poker player who had apparently forgotten the fact that an ace high did not, in fact, beat a straight-flush.

"What a horrible man," Elizabeth hissed as Barbossa tipped his hat to the man he'd swindled out of a ship.

"Good pirate," Mr. Gibbs shrugged. "Besides, you really want to debate ethics when Jack's life is dependin' on us gettin' a ship?"

"I suppose not," Elizabeth sighed.

Barbossa strolled over, feathered hat bouncing jauntily from his inebriated stride.

"When do we set sail?" Elizabeth demanded.

Barbossa frowned. "Now now, Missy, you'll be callin' me Captain from now on."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but didn't debate the point. "Captain, then. When do we sail?"

"Tomorrow morning," Barbossa declared grandly. The whole tavern quieted as they strained to hear the much-celebrated pirate make his announcement. "Tomorrow, ladies and gents, we set sail for the End of the World!"

"That does _not _bode well," Elizabeth groaned.


	2. Purgatory

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the pack of Wonka Nerds sitting on my computer desk, so unless you're really hungry, don't bother suing )

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Chapter Two: Purgatory

It felt as if a large sack filled with bricks, sand, and exceptionally furry monkeys had upended itself on Jack's head. Blinking groggily, he swatted a hand at the air in front of him.

He was in a small room, lying face-up on the hard floor. There was a vague scent of mildew in the air, as well as what was unmistakably the smell of a multitude of unwashed human bodies. Wrinkling his nose, the pirate captain heaved himself to a sitting position, and gazed blearily about the cell.

The thick iron bars in front of him formed the fourth wall of the cell, with the other three walls comprised of unforgiving stone masonry that even Jack wasn't crazy enough to try and break through. Looking through the bars, not more than a hands-width apart from each other, the captain could make out a dimly-lit corridor filled with cells identical to his own.

Then a horrible sensation swept through the pirate, and his hands flew to his bandana-clad head. "My hat!"

Scrambling to his feet, Jack searched the cell wildly for the prized possession, but to no avail. Groaning in frustration, he slid down the back wall, and grumbled: "This _must _be Hell."

"Not Hell," a deep voice rasped. "Purgatory."

Gold teeth glistened in the torchlight as Jack grinned faintly. "I fail to see the distinction, mate." When there was no response, the pirate crawled forward to peer at the dark figure huddled in the cell across from his. He stroked his moustache thoughtfully.

"I don't s'pose you know how I get in here, eh?"

The man got to his feet and approached the bars of his cell. When the torchlight illuminated his hideously scarred face, Jack recoiled. "You ought to see a doctor about that," he suggested helpfully.

"You joke a lot for a man banished to Purgatory," the man growled.

Jack inclined his head, pressing his hands together in a mock-bow from his kneeling position. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate! I shall be out of this cage before you can say Tortuga."

The pronouncement somehow failed to impress the man. "So you're the one they've been talking about."

The pirate captain's head tilted, eyebrow arching skyward. "What's the gossip saying, then?"

"You sold your soul to Davy Jones for a ship," the man said slowly. "Then your crew mutinied, you were abandoned on a desert island, and once you finally reclaimed the ship, your thirteen years were up, and He came to collect the debt you owed."

"Filthy bugger," Jack noted. "All slime and tentacles."

"So he set the kraken on you," the man continued. "But you tried to escape its clutches. No one's clear on what happened there – some fools said you went after Jones's heart, if you can believe it. No man would be stupid enough to try that, I hold."

"Ridiculous notion," the pirate agreed nonchalantly, waving a carefree hand about. "Even I wouldn't try something that foolish." The man missed the amused glint in Jack's eyes. "So what am I doing here, then?"

"The kraken finally caught up to you," he concluded. "It couldn't kill you, of course."

Jack blinked. "Why of course?"

The man seemed confused. "You owe your soul to Jones. He won't kill you till your debt is repaid. So instead he sent you here, along with your ship."

"My ship?" Jack perked up noticeably, beads jangling merrily in his dreadlocks as he scooted farther forward. "You know where the _Pearl _is?"

The man gave a grunt of dismissal. "In the shipyards, although I've never seen them with my own eyes."

"Bugger."

He shrugged. "I was sent here for thieving, myself. Stole something that I shouldn't have from a powerful witch – never thought she'd stick me here, rather than just killing me like any decent person would."

Jack affected a look of sympathy, which more or less succeeded. "So…" he drawled, sitting back and examining the cell intently. "Don't s'pose you know any way out of this place… er…?"

"Garth," the man grunted. "And don't you think I would've gotten out of here ages ago if I could?"

"All information is good information," the pirate scolded. "Think, man!"

Garth pondered the question. "Sorry, I've got nothing. I've never been outside my cell, except during meals. And there's no chance She'd let anyone escape, anyway…"

The man trailed off as Jack's eyes lit with delight.

"Er… why are you grinning?"

"Who is this _she_, exactly?"

"The… ruler of Purgatory… why?"

"The ruler of Purgatory… is a woman?"

"Yes…"

Jack grinned. "Problem solved, mate."

_Neptune's Wrath _was making good time as it scurried down the coast of South America, but its crew wasn't in quite as good a state.

Only days into the voyage, Elizabeth and Will's little unspoken argument had reached an all-time high, and the pair had now taken to studiously avoiding all contact with each other, except for when they had no choice but to be near the other. These moments generally led to nasty insults – and much face-slapping in Elizabeth's case – so as a whole the crew had taken to making themselves scarce whenever such clashes were inevitable.

Elizabeth herself wasn't nearly as mad with Will as he was with her, but every time she caught his eye the despair, jealousy, and betrayal radiating from his tense body where enough to send waves of guilt coursing through her. He, of course, was too proper to accuse her of anything if she didn't bring it up first, and so they settled into a holding pattern of poorly-concealed aggression that was irritating the crew to no end.

Meanwhile, the crew itself was going mad at having to take orders from the previously undead Barbossa, who seemed elated at being in control of a ship again… even if he was well aware that every man and woman on ship would kill him the instant he tried anything uncouth. Still, Tia Dalma's ringing endorsement of his changed nature kept their blades in their sheaths, and their guns in their holsters… for the time being, anyway.

As a matter of fact, the only people not swept up in the discontent that swamped the _Wrath _were Pintel and Ragetti. Ragetti because, of course, he was too busy chasing after his errant eyeball, and Pintel because he happened to like Barbossa, thank you very much, and felt that any unhappiness on the part of the blacksmith who'd taken away his immortality was a good thing indeed.

As the _Wrath _rounded the tip of South America and entered the vast stretch of water known as the Pacific Ocean – a place only Barbossa and, surprisingly, Pintel, had been before – the mood of the crew was at an all time low, and Elizabeth had broken down into tears after her latest encounter with Will.

Standing behind the _Wrath_'s mighty oak wheel, gazing majestically out over his crew, Barbossa frowned as he took in his men's downcast eyes and unhappy glowers as they scurried around the deck.

"Alright, that's enough!" Barbossa bellowed. His booming voice carried easily enough across the large deck, and within minutes the whole crew, Will and Elizabeth included, had gathered uneasily around the helm to hear their Captain's words.

"I've been listenin' to you lot snivel and complain for too long!" he snarled. He gave Will, then Elizabeth, a pointed glare. "You two are from here on out confined to the crow's nest until you can work out your problems! And as fer the rest of you! I'm your captain, whether you scallywags like it or not, so show a little respect! Next man I see giving me the evil eye is going down to see Davy Jones!"

The men blanched in only the way men can who have come face to face with Davy Jones, and never, ever, _ever _want to again.

"Am I makin' myself clear?"

A mumbled chorus of agreement was like music to the Captain's ears. "Right then," he snapped. "Back to work, the lot of you! Mister Turner, Miss Swann – it's the crows nest for you."

"This is outrageous," Elizabeth hissed as Pintel 'helped' her towards the center mast, by means of grabbing her arm and dragging her. "He has no right to interfere in our affairs!"

"Mayhaps if you wasn't so disruptive when settling said affairs, Captain wouldn't 'ave resorted to this," the balding man sneered.

Elizabeth scowled. "I never liked you."

A hurt look blossomed on the man's scraggly features. "You little-" She scrambled up the mast before he could come to his senses and lunge after her.

As she pulled herself up into the cramped crow's nest, Elizabeth found herself looking directly into the stormy eyes of Will Turner. Averting her gaze, she clambered the rest of the way into the nest and settled down as far from her fiancée as possible.

Several minutes passed in silence. When more than an hour had gone by, Will suddenly snorted derisively and said, "You know, if you hadn't thrown yourself at Jack, we wouldn't be in this situation now."

"What I do with Jack Sparrow is none of your concern," Elizabeth hissed, well aware of how absurd the statement was, speaking to her _fiancée _and all. "And I didn't throw myself at him."

"No," Will snarled, eyes darkening. "I suppose he cast some sort of spell over you that made you helpless to resist his advances. Or perhaps you tripped and fell on his lips?"

"Actually, I just couldn't tear myself away from his rugged manliness," Elizabeth snapped. "Don't be a fool! I kissed Jack to save us all!"

Will snorted, although amusement was the farthest thing from his mind. "If you truly believe that, then perhaps I should be glad that you two are so close. It is said that the insane are attracted to each other."

"That's absurd, and I am _not _mad," she retorted. "Honestly, Will, are you blind? That kraken was hell-bent on destroying Jack, and if he had come with us, it would have killed us all! It was after him, don't you see! If we weren't near him, we'd survive."

"And you honestly expect me to believe that your kiss convinced a craven pirate to play the hero and sacrifice himself so that we might live," Will laughed. "You've changed."

"You're the one who's changed," Elizabeth replied harshly. "You don't ever think things through, do you! I kissed Jack to distract him – not for my own pleasure! – so that I could shackle him to the mast while his guard was down."

Silence blanketed the crow's nest as Will took in her words with wide eyes. For a moment he looked less an infuriated man, and more like a helpless child. "You…"

"I condemned him to death, yes," she snapped impatiently. "I had no choice! It was us or him, Will!"

"So you kissed him… to save us. To save me." Clearly he was more concerned with her infidelity than the fact that she'd just admitted to causing their friend's death. Then again, considering said friend had abandoned him to Davy Jones, hit him over the head with a paddle, and stopped him from destroying Jones's heart by pressing a sword against his throat, his reaction wasn't all that surprising. Will really had grown up, although not necessarily for the better.

"Yes," Elizabeth insisted, conveniently ignoring the voice in her mind screaming _you may have been distracting him, missy, but you enjoyed that kiss way more than you're saying! _

For the first time in over a month, Will's eyes softened and a spark of hope returned to their brown depths. "Then… you weren't cheating on me."

"Of course not!" That ever-present guilt surged up again, but Elizabeth ignored it and plastered the most apologetic expression she could on her face. "Will, won't you forgive me? What I did, I did for us. So we could live."

Will's only response was to pull his love into his arms and kiss her senseless. As Elizabeth melted into the feeling and was swept away in the emotion she'd gone so long without feeling, she remembered another kiss, a mind-blowing, way-better-than-any-Will's-given-me kiss, that she'd had not long ago… _I am _not _thinking about Jack Sparrow while kissing my husband-to-be! Oooh, this is not good. _

Pulling away from her, Will tenderly brushed a strand of hair away from her smooth cheek, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Maybe Barbossa was right after all," he admitted. "All we needed was to talk things out."

"I suppose you're right," Elizabeth agreed demurely, barely noticing as his arms pulled her against, settling around her waist in a possessive fashion. All she could think of was that confounded kiss, the feel of _his _lips on hers. _Jack…_

Back in the Caribbean, things had taken an interesting turn. This was partially in the form of Lord Cutler Beckett assuming Governor Swann's title and all the powers it possessed, allowing the East India Trading Company free reign over all trade in the Caribbean, but mostly in that James Norrington had sold his soul, so to speak, for his newly-appointed position as Admiral of the King's fleet.

Standing at attention in his bright red attire, white wig back on his head, gleaming black shoes firmly on his feet, Admiral Norrington was a perfect example of the British navy at its best. His 'commanding officer', Lord Beckett, nodded approvingly from the desk he was lounging behind, eyes flickering every now and then to the mahogany box on the corner that held his most precious possession – the heart of Davy Jones.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, Admiral," he stated, gesturing for the man to relax and take a seat. Norrington did so, although he kept a wary eye on the man. Ambitious he was, oh yes, but stupidity was not one of his more prominent character traits.

"Thank you, sir," he responded politely. "I've been inspecting the fleet all morning. Things had been a tad… lax, since I was away."

Beckett sighed. "I have no doubt that Port Royal fell to pieces without your marvelous leadership to guide their way." It was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic or not – his flat voice gave away nothing. "But now that you've returned to us, I'm certain the fleet will be spick and span in no time."

Norrington inclined his head cautiously. "That is my plan, sir."

"Excellent!" Beckett clapped his hands together. "Now then, Admiral, there are more important matters to discuss."

"What might those be?"

The Lord leaned forward, a frown marring his face. "Admiral Norrington, you have provided me with a detailed account of how you came across Davy Jones's heart. A fantastic tale of barnacle covered fish-men, and a grand showdown involving not only the elusive Jack Sparrow-"

"Captain," Norrington corrected immediately, then winced. "Forgive me," he mumbled quietly.

Beckett seemed more amused than irritated. "It seems that even being around the man for a few short days can affect one. But to return to my point, Admiral, you've told me that Mr. Sparrow, Miss Swan, _and _Mr. Turner were all present at this grand showdown, after which you heroically sacrificed yourself to let them escape to safety."

"A ruse," Norrington reminded him, "to secure the heart, which they didn't know I had."

"Yes, yes, I know," Beckett waved a hand dismissively. "Then you returned here, gifted me with the heart, and I, in gratitude, named you my Admiral."

Norrington gave a short bow.

"But what I really want to know, Admiral, is _what happened to Jack Sparrow_." Beckett's lips twisted in displeasure. "My agents managed to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth Swann in Tortuga, of all places, immediately following the incident. But Mr. Sparrow, it seems, has vanished."

Norrington gave him a confused look. "Forgive me for asking, Lord Beckett, but what does it matter? With the heart of Davy Jones, do you not control the seas themselves?"

"In a sense," Beckett said. "And that is why I ask." He tapped an impatient finger on the gleaming wooden desk. "Davy Jones's heart gives me control over Davy Jones himself, for he dares not resist me while I hold such a valuable object in my possession."

"Then get him to find Sparrow for you."

"That is what I _did_," Beckett snapped. "And Jones sent a message not a day later indicating that Sparrow was not to be found on this earth. Not to be found! You can see why that troubles me, Admiral, when a very dangerous pirate is loose in this world, and even Davy Jones does not know his location!"

"Perhaps he's dead," Norrington suggested with a poorly-concealed grin.

Beckett studied him with mild amusement. "You'd like that, I'm sure. Fortunately, so would I. That is why the first task I'm giving you, after you get my fleet back up to standard, is to go forth and locate Jack Sparrow."

The Lord grinned. "Davy Jones was lying to me, or at least not telling the whole truth."

"What do you mean?"

"Sparrow may not be on this earth, but Jones never said that he was dead. Wherever Sparrow is, you _will _find him, and you _will _bring him to me. And if I find that our dear Mr. Jones lied to me, he will suffer the same fate Mr. Sparrow will."

"And what might that be?" Norrington inquired eagerly.

Beckett smirked. "A short drop and a sudden stop, my friend."

"Ah, good," Norrington grinned. "Just making sure we were on the same page."


End file.
